


best of n

by itsahockeyplay



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 18:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14407473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsahockeyplay/pseuds/itsahockeyplay
Summary: Geno throws him the ball, and the game begins. There aren't that many arguments until Geno starts winning, and suddenly, Sid's finding fault everywhere. By the time Geno wins the game, Derick's got a headache, he's thirsty, and he'shungry. But Geno's won, which means —“Best of nine.”Derick stares at Sid in horror.Kill Billsirens go off in his head, and they only get louder as Geno says, “Okay.” He starts shaking his head when Sid stares at him, only to succumb to Sid's not-so-gentle, “Just a couple more games…?”





	best of n

**Author's Note:**

> this is extremely self-indulgent and tbh probably ooc buuuuuuuuuuuut i enjoyed the fuck out of envisioning this and writing it out. based on [ this ](https://itsahockeyplay.tumblr.com/post/172403856752/obsessiveshayme-i-want-to-know-if-geno-and)post. there also isn't a lot of explicit sidgeno content but i wrote it as established relationship. enjoy!!

After, Derick will swear it had been a cruel conspiracy against him, orchestrated by everyone present. Some horrible type of hazing, really.

Geno's invited a few guys over — Horny, Phil, Olli, Sid, Tanger — and Tanger had dragged Derick with him, claiming it was his job to do so as Derick's self-appointed tour guide. And, well. Derick has a hard time saying no, especially when someone's been so nice to him.

That's how he ends up sitting on a couch in Geno's — large, sorta dark — rec room, beer in his hand, listening to Phil and Tanger argue about…Derick isn't actually sure what they're arguing about. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if they themselves have forgotten what they're arguing about.

Geno's been working the room, popping in and out of conversations, all the while glancing at the ping pong table longingly, and he finally gives into his urge and picks up a racket, grinning at the room at large. “Who wants to play?”

Phil and Tanger stop to stare at him and Tanger lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“With _you_? After what happened last time? An actual insane person, that's who,” Phil says.

Derick wants to ask what happened last time, but Tanger's sitting too far away for Derick to ask him subtly. For a second, he considers texting Tanger before deciding instead to just walk over and ask him once someone agrees to play with Geno.

Geno, who's glancing at every person one at a time just for them to shake their head or, in Tanger's case, say, “I promised Catherine I'd try to reduce my chances of injury, and playing against you is the exact opposite.”

Geno scoffs. “Only thing be injured is your ego.” When Tanger doesn't bite, Geno looks at Derick and slowly smiles.

Derick feels like he's about to take a big hit on the ice, except there's no ice around and he isn't playing hockey.

“Oh, hey, you're playing ping pong? Can I play?” Sid asks, arriving just before Geno's about to ask, holding two beers in his hand. He nods in the direction of the ping pong table. “I don't actually think I've ever played you before.”

Derick is far, far too busy basking in relief to pay attention to Olli's whispered, “Oh my god.”

When reviewing what went wrong, he'll pinpoint this as his first mistake.

Geno smiles. Well, smirks, really. “Because you know you lose, can't take it.”

Sid narrows his eyes. He walks across the room, straight toward Tanger and Phil, saying, “I won't need to take it, because I won't lose.” He hands them the beers and straightens as he ignores Phil's, “I don't want beer,” turning toward Geno. “Y'know, it kinda sounds like you're just stalling.” He crosses his arms. He's smirking, too.

This is the most intense smirking Derick's seen happen between two people. The fact that he doesn't realize this is an enormous red flag is mistake number two.

“Just give you time to think if you really wanna do this. I'm nice guy like that.” He shrugs. “If you serious, I'm ready.” He's bouncing the ball on his racket, not bothering to look at it.

Sid ambles to the table, picks up a racket. He twirls it in his hand and, when satisfied with his grip, nods, looking at Geno. “Okay, I'm — “

Sid doesn't even finish the sentence before Geno serves, and it's hard and fast enough Sid misses it.

Geno laughs in celebration and Sid makes an outraged noise, pointing at Geno with his racket. “What the fuck? That doesn't count! I wasn't ready!”

“You nod, you say, 'Okay,' mean you ready.”

“That's unsportsmanlike. You're deliberately taking advantage — “

“Not unsportsmanlike, called being _smart_. You do same if you're me.”

They continue in that vein and Horny says, “Do you think the game's over before it's even begun? There's no way either of them is going to admit to being wrong.”

Tanger's got his phone out, grinning as he records the argument, probably to put it on Snapchat. “There wasn't ever gonna be a game in the first place.”

Sid and Geno are _still_ going at it. “Wow,” Derick says. “They're, uh. Really competitive, huh?” Athletes always are, of course, but never _this_ bad.

“Oh, this is nothing,” Olli says. “The worst was…well, we don't talk about it.”

“They tried to play basketball,” Phil says, and he leans in, face grave. “It didn't go well. They tried to pretend otherwise, but they totally stopped talking to each other for a few days.”

Derick eyebrows shoot up. “Holy shit, really?” He looks to Tanger, hoping he elaborates, but Tanger's got his head ducked down as he types something in his phone, smiling like a maniac.

“They still talked, but not how _Sid_ and _Geno_ talk,” Horny says, and it seems like he's about to explain more, but Sid cuts him off before he can.

“Hey, who wants to ref? Olli?”

The silence seems to stretch on forever as everyone looks at them, eyes wide, and with each passing second, the frowns on Sid and Geno's faces get deeper and deeper.

Olli's the first to unfreeze. He shoots up, saying, “I have to go. Sorry. Uh, Schultzy texted, said he locked himself out, I need to go help him.” He nods at Geno. “Thanks for having us over, Geno.” He speedwalks away, throwing a wave and a call of, “See you guys later,” over his shoulder.

Sid and Geno turn their gaze over to Horny, who also jumps up off the couch. “Hags just texted me to let me know Malin's having some discomfort. I'm gonna meet them at the hospital,” he says, and Derick hasn't seen him even take out his phone, let alone read a text from Hags, but he looks panicky enough it has to be true. “Sorry, guys.” Sid and Geno look like they want to protest, but they can't exactly demand Horny abandon his pregnant wife just to ref a match. If Olli had speewalked, Horny sprints out.

The fact that Derick believes both Horny and Olli is his third mistake.

It's just him, Tanger, and Phil left.

Sid bites his lip. “Maybe Tanger — “

“No,” Geno says, “too biased. Maybe Phil — “

“What? No. He's too biased, too.”

Then, they both turn to Derick. The urge to brace himself for impact is back again, but this time, it's followed with the despair that accompanies the realization the guy about to hit you is 6'7 and 250 lbs, and there's no way you're gonna make it out of this even remotely okay.

Geno raises his eyebrows at Derick and Sid says, with a friendly smile, “Hey, would you mind reffing?”

“Uh…” Derick turns to see Phil and Tanger nodding at him, smiling wide. He nods at Sid and Geno, because he can't just say _no_ , especially since he's the only guy that seems to be able to help the situation. “Yeah, sure, no problem.”

And this — _this_ is the final mistake Derick makes. One he will never make again. Every time he replays it in his head, he adds a dirge as background music. Tanger and Phil are replaced by the words “Asshole” and “Bastard.”

He gets up and walks over, rubbing the palm of his hand on his jeans, offering a quick smile as he gets to the table and rounds it so he's in the middle, facing Phil and Tanger. Tanger's got his phone out again, taking a video, probably, and while Phil isn't _physically_ eating popcorn, his facial expression says he's doing so spiritually.

“You know rules?” Geno asks, bouncing the ball off his racket again as he looks at Derick.

“Yeah,” Derick says. “Well, at least I think I do?”

Derick doesn't miss the way Sid looks at Geno doing his no-look batting and rolls his eyes, but he's quick to smile at Derick. “You probably do. Honestly, you don't even have to make calls or anything — we mainly need a neutral third party for when we disagree.”

Derick laughs a little. “Wow, 'when,' huh? Guess you guys don't have a lot of faith.” When neither Sid nor Geno laughs with him, Derick clears his throat, wiping the smile off his face. “Right. Uh. Let's get started. Best of three?”

“Five,” Geno says, shaking his head.

“That worried?” Sid says, and, oh, okay, the smirking thing is back. Looking at Geno — yup, seems like he's doing it, too.

“Know I'm win first two, so you add three games. Just think it's easier if we start with five. Why pretend?”

“You two actually gonna play, or just keep flirting?” Phil says.

“Give them credit, Phil,” Tanger says, mock-serious as he turns to Phil. “They can flirt _while_ playing, too.”

Geno hits the ball so it bounces off the side of Tanger's head.

“ _Hey!_ ”

Geno shrugs. “Oops. Hand slip.” He squares up, facing Sid. “Ready?”

Sid nods, shifting his stance, changing his grip on the racket. “Yeah.”

“Ready like last time, or actually ready?”

“Just fucking serve.”

Geno pulls out another ball — seemingly out of thin air — and does.

Unsurprisingly, both Geno and Sid are pretty good at playing. When either of them scores a point, they don't bother with showy celebrations, but the smugness radiating off them threatens to choke Derick and probably strangles whoever got scored on.

The first game ends without an incident — unless the occasional, mutual trash talk counts — with Geno emerging as the victor. Geno doesn't yell in triumph, but the way Sid's glaring at him, you'd think he _had_.

“Still time to quit. No shame,” Geno says, but his expression makes it clear there _would_ be a lot of gloating.

Sid doesn't bother with a response, but his face says, loud and clear, 'Fuck you.'

Geno tilts his head to the side and back. “Okay, if you sure.” He serves again, and they go through the motions, repeating the same process as before: intense focus, chirping, and smugness. Rinse and repeat, until finally, Geno wins. Derick remembers Geno's “best of five” comment earlier, wonders if he's going to say 'I told —

Before Derick finishes his thought, Geno says, exaggeratedly thoughtful, “Oh, wow. I'm _right_ about who win first two games. Amazing, that never happen.”

Well, that answers that question.

Sid sniffs. “If I didn't let you win, you'd sulk the entire time.”

Geno goes from gleeful to unamused in .05 seconds. “Didn't let me win. _I_ win.”

Sid shrugs. “Okay.”

Derick really, really doesn't like the vibe of the conversation, so he cuts in, saying, “Okay, cool! Onto game three.”

Sid bounces the ball off the table a couple times before holding it in his palm. He doesn't bother asking if Geno's ready before he serves.

Tanger and Phil look bored, and Derick's fucking _relieved_. This is so much better than he thought it would be. He'd expected things to have deteriorated a long time back, honestly. When Phil gets up, saying, “Well, I'm bored and wanna get out while I still can. See you guys later,” Sid and Geno barely acknowledge him.

Sid wins this game. “Yeah,” he says, holding the ball flat in his palm. “Totally didn't let you win the first two.”

The muscle in Geno's jaw jumps. “If it's make you feel better, keep believe that.”

Sid wins the next one, too, and they're tied 2-2. Geno serves, and they haven't even been playing for more than a minute before Sid misses and Geno makes a smug noise, nodding.

“That doesn't count, that was cheating,” Sid says.

Tanger looks like he's about to rub the palms of his hands together, and if Derick weren't watching him, he'd have missed the quiet, “Oh, here we go.”

Geno's mouth falls open and he lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Cheating? Please, don't need cheat against you.”

“That was _absolutely_ cheating, you can't do that.”

“Can't do what? Play good?”

“It didn't hit the table!”

“It hit edge!”

“No it fucking didn't, it hit air!”

“Just because _you_ miss doesn't mean hit air.”

“Just because _you're_ the one who hit it doesn't mean it didn't.”

Geno turns to Derick. “Tell him.”

Sid turns to Derick, too. “Tell _him_.”

Derick opens his mouth. He has no idea what to say, but it doesn't matter because he doesn't even get a chance to stall.

“Tell _me_?” Geno's voice has gotten exponentially louder. “Tell me _what_? You're one who's wrong!”

“Guys — “ Derick tries to cut in.

“Except I'm _not_.”

“Except you _are_.”

“Guys, how about — “ Derick tries again.

“That did _not_ hit the edge, Geno, I would've seen it.”

“I _did_ see; it _did_.”

“Guys!” They both turn to glare at Derick. “How about this — Geno, it was really close, and though I totally believe you when you say it hit the edge, it really is just one point.” He looks at both of them, pleading. “Just…do it over, please?”

Geno lets out a noisy sigh. “Fine.” He glares at Sid and mutters something in Russian as he gets ready to serve again.

Derick glares at Tanger, who's smirking back at him. Jesus Christ. Is smirking a thing _everyone_ on the Pens does? Should Derick practice his own, now that he's a part of the team? Either way, Derick's never talking to Tanger _or_ Phil again, not after this. Those fuckers.

They make it about a minute before another argument starts.

This time, Geno misses. He gestures at Sid with his racket. “You obstruct! Can't do that!”

“Obstruct? Obstruct _what_?”

“Ball!”

Sid scoffs. “You keep on cheating and you're accusing me — “

Geno makes an inarticulate noise of outrage. “I cheat? _I_ cheat? At least my serve legal!”

“If by legal you mean _il_ legal, sure!”

Derick keeps looking between the two as the conversation further deteriorates, and then looks to Tanger, mouthing, 'Please help.'

Tanger gets up, and Derick thanks God for being on his side. Tanger stares at Derick, smiling, and he walks closer…before turning, walking to the door.

“What? No, Tanger! Tanger, come back!” Derick yells after him. Sid and Geno are either too wrapped up in their conversation or don't care enough to acknowledge Tanger leaving or Derick's pleas.

“Bye, guys,” Tanger yells back, and Derick makes as if to move, but Sid pins him with his gaze.

“Where are you going?” he says.

“It's, um. I, uh.” He stares at where Tanger had once been and sighs. God has forsaken him. “Nowhere.”

Sid nods. “Good.” He jerks his chin at Geno. “Tell him my serve was totally legal.”

“Tell _him_ he full of shit,” Geno says, crossing his arms.

“I…” Derick's sure he's imagining it, but he swears he can feel sweat forming on his forehead due to the scorching looks both of them are aiming at him. “I didn't see it, I'm sorry. Why don't you repeat it, to be on the safe side.”

Sid's eyebrows shoot up. “Repeat it?”

“What, suddenly forget English?” Geno says, snide. “Repeat.” He makes a 'get on with it' motion.

“Fine.” The word's clipped, pointed. “I will.”

Neither of them is able to play for more than a couple minutes before accusing the other of doing something wrong or denying any wrongdoing on their part. Derick doesn't know how long he stands there, waiting for the game to finish, but he gives up trying to interject when he's ignored for the fifth time, only saying something along the lines of, “Do over,” when they both turn to demand “justice” from him.

 _Just last this game,_ he tells himself. _Just this game. Then you can leave_.

When Geno finally fucking wins, Derick feels so, so tempted to join his celebration because he can finally _go home_. He's doused with gratitude, joy, _relief_. And, to be frank, a sense of purpose, because he's going to kill Tanger next time he sees him.

Sid's been scowling since the moment he lost, arms crossed. “Best of seven.”

“Why? Wanna lose more?”

“Best of seven.”

Geno shrugs. “Okay. Can do all day.”

The gratitude, joy, and relief go up in flames. Derick's going to _kill_ Tanger. “Guys, I — I need to go home.”

Sid frowns at him. “Oh, you have plans?”

“Well…no.”

“Emergency?” Geno asks, and he's frowning, too.

Derick hesitates before shaking his head. “It's not an emergency.”

“Oh. I mean, you can totally leave, I'd just really appreciate it if you could maybe stick around, y'know, until someone wins.”

“Could leave, too. Know I'm gonna win,” Geno says.

Sid snaps his gaze toward Geno. “No, you're not.”

“Am. Then you say, 'Best of nine,' I win. Then you say, 'Best of eleven,' I win again.” Geno gives Derick a sympathetic look. “Maybe should leave now. Sid never stop, because I keep beating him.”

“No, you're fucking not.” Sid turns to Derick. “I'd really appreciate it. It's cool if you can't, but, y'know, I'd really appreciate it if you stayed.”

Derick curses himself as he says, “Yeah, okay, sure, I can stick around for another two games.”

Sid's smile is blinding. “Thanks, man.” The smile drops quickly as he turns to face Geno. “My serve.”

Geno throws him the ball, and the game begins. There aren't that many arguments until Geno starts winning, and suddenly, Sid's finding fault everywhere. By the time Geno wins the game, Derick's got a headache, he's thirsty, and he's _hungry_. But Geno's won, which means —

“Best of nine.”

Derick stares at Sid in horror. _Kill Bill_ sirens go off in his head, and they only get louder as Geno says, “Okay.” He starts shaking his head when Sid stares at him, only to succumb to Sid's not-so-gentle, “Just a couple more games…?”

Hating himself even _more_ , Derick says, “Okay.” Then, hurries to add in his firmest voice, “But I'm not doing more than nine, guys, I mean it.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Sid says, smiling widely.

Sid wins the game, and when he starts winning the next one, too, it's _Geno's_ turn to find fault with Sid's everything: his stance, his grip, his hits — Sid can do nothing right, it seems.

Derick tries to be as diplomatic as possible while also trying to get the game to finish as quickly as possible, and by the time Sid finally, _finally_ wins, Derick vows to never curse at an official again because Derick wouldn't wish this job on his worst fucking enemy.

“Okay,” he says as soon as Sid's done with his not-at-all-subtle celebration, “I'm leaving, I can't — “

“No, best of eleven,” Geno says, face thunderous as he stares at Sid. “Only fair.”

Derick stares at him, jaw unhinged because _are these two serious_. “What?” he says, voice much higher than he'd like to admit.

“I don't know, Geno, Derick's been here for a while, he's probably tired.”

“Yes,” Derick hurries to say, “yes, Derick _has_ been here for a while and he _is_ very tired.” He's so fucking tired, he isn't even horrified at himself for speaking in the third person. He just wants to _go home_.

Geno scoffs. “You don't care. Just don't wanna play because _know_ I'm better player.”

“You know what?” Sid crosses his arms. “Fine. Best of eleven.”

“No!” Derick blurts out, shaking his head wildly. “Nope, I'm sorry, I'm not staying. You guys wanna play? _Fine_ , but keep me out of it. I'm going home, and eating, and taking a nap.” Sid opens his mouth, but before he can get anything out, Derick says, “Nope, don't even _try_ , Sid.” If he had any energy left, he'd be horrified at himself for talking that way, but _Sid's_ the reason he doesn't have any energy left, so, really, this is all Sid's fault, anyway.

“Listen, Derick — “

“No, nope, nuh-uh,” Derick says, and he starts walking away. He turns so he's walking backward as he says, palms up in front of him, “I'm done being referee. I'm sorry. I think you guys are great, really, and I'm super happy to be here, but I can't do this again.” He hears Geno say, “Derick,” when he turns around so his back's to them, but he shakes his head and continues walking away.

He more or less runs out Geno's house, putting his coat on as he's going outside, and as soon as he's out, he pulls out his phone so he can text Tanger: _Why would you do that to me_

Tanger texts back so quickly, Derick wouldn't be surprised to learn he'd been waiting for Derick's text this entire time. _Wow you lasted longer than I thought you would_

He enters his location so a driver can pick him and up then texts back: _Tanger why the fuck would you do this to me I trusted you_

_Sooner or later everyone needs to learn how to say no to sid and geno. The only way to learn it is by living it_

_Don't try to make it sound as if you're yoda you just wanted to see me suffer_

_Are you ever going to agree to ref any of their competitions again?_

Derick stares at the text, laughing out loud. _Fuck no!!!!_

_Then my work here is done young padawan. You're welcome_

_***_

After practice the next day, Sid seeks him out, looking as apologetic as Derick's ever seen him. 

"Hey, so, uh," he says, running a hand through his hair, "sorry about yesterday. Geno and I can..." 

"Get carry away," Geno says as he walks by, shooting Derick an apologetic look, too, but heading toward the showers instead of staying to talk. 

"Oh, it's totally fine, it really wasn't a problem," Derick hurries to assure him, because he isn't super proud of how he'd just...left like that, either. "Actually, I'm sorry -- " 

"No, I'm sorry, you have nothing to be sorry about," Sid says, shaking his head. 

Geno passes by again, apparently having forgotten something, and says, nudging Sid a little, "Canadians, always say sorry, sorry -- why you never sorry me?" 

"Russians," Sid says, turning so his voice can carry as Geno keeps walking, "always willing to accept an apology but never to offer one." 

Geno waves his arm as he rummages around in his stall for something. "Russians never need say sorry, always right. Never do anything wrong." 

Derick expects Sid to roll his eyes, maybe volley a pointed remark, but Sid just laughs, shaking his head a little as he turns back to Derick. 

"So...I guess you two are still talking," Derick says, eyebrows up. Derick  _knew_ Phil had been exaggerating about that whole "no talking" thing. 

"Ah." Sid pauses. "Yeah, we...have a system. For dealing with situations like these." 

Olli's hovering next to Derick, having been talking to Schultz, and he looks over at Sid, disgusted. "Gross. I'm gonna pretend I never heard that." 

Derick looks between the two. The tips of Sid's ears are turning red and Olli stalks off, muttering something under his breath, and Derick is no closer to any answers than he was five seconds ago. "What?" 

"Nothing," Sid says quickly. "Don't worry about it. Just -- yeah, sorry about yesterday." 

Derick's about to reiterate his response, but Geno stops behind Sid, grinning over his shoulder. "Should thank, actually." And then he's off again. 

" _Geno_ ," Sid says, and he sounds kinda pissed, but Geno yells something back in Russian and Sid must know what it means because he rolls his eyes, saying, "Asshole," with far, far too much fondness for it to come even close to an insult. 

Derick's eyebrows go up again, and at this rate, they're going to be permanently fixed to the top of his forehead. "What'd he say?" he asks. 

"He's just being Geno," Sid says, and Derick  _wants_ to say that means nothing to him, but Sid pats the side of his bicep, nodding at him. "Right, I'm gonna leave you be. Good job at practice today." 

"Yeah, thanks." As soon as Sid's out of earshot, he leans over so he can ask Schultz in an undertone, "Hey, what was that thing with Olli?" 

"Huh?" Schultz says, seemingly snapping himself out of thought. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Probably an inside joke." He smiles wide. "Olli likes joking." 

"Right." Derick nods once. "Okay." For a second, he thinks about really trying to get to the bottom of it, but he's learned by now to mind his own business: it keeps his life simple.

And then, he spots Tanger and he stands, straightening before making a beeline for him. He has some very strongly worded sentences he needs to say to Tanger. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all liked it! lemme know what you thought :)) i am also on [tumblr](https://itsahockeyplay.tumblr.com), if that's of interest.


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